


First Date?

by Insomniact



Series: Superheroes Not Required [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomniact/pseuds/Insomniact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark is a genius. This is simply common sense, known by anyone and everyone who has set foot outside in the last century.</p><p>And that is the reason why he finds it so unbelievable when while out for what seemed like an innocent dinner with Steve Rogers, he thinks: <i>this is a date</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god what have I done?

Tony Stark is a genius. This is simply common sense, known by anyone and everyone who has set foot outside in the last century.

And that is the reason why he finds it so unbelievable when while out for what seemed like an innocent dinner with Steve Rogers, he thinks: _this is a date_.

After a moment of almost blind panic, he realizes the signs were really all there, waiting to be seen. So he can’t help but feel a bit foolish at this startling revelation. It is clear that Steve did not dress himself for this occasion, in a button down pale-blue shirt and pants he definitely did not own at least a couple weeks ago. He looks damn good, and he will have to thank whoever helped him pick out those clothes. The restaurant the two of them are currently seated in, at a small table near the back away from most of the patrons, is not one of Steve’s favored locations. More of a business meeting type establishment, one for formal affairs, where the table cloths cost an amount that would have Steve wrinkling his nose involuntarily. And Tony has to stop himself from pointing that out just to see such a reaction.

Tony takes a second from his thoughts to peek at the man that got him into this mess, who smiles across the table around his mouth full of pasta. Which Tony returns carefully, containing his inner turmoil between his teeth with practiced ease.

This has been a possible outcome for some time, of course. He knows how he looks at the blond man when he is coming in from his morning run, sweat outlining his collarbone and hair in mild disarray from the aggressive wind. A fact he himself has not failed to pick up on, if how he grins at the other man in reply is any indication. Their flirting has been called out by fellow avengers on multiple occasions, which has admittedly evolved to be much more than most people would consider harmless.

What Tony does not know, however, is if this is something that he can let happen. Despite the few rocks they stumbled over on their way to getting here, they are now what Tony would optimistically refer to as good friends. Does he really want to risk that by jumping into a relationship? His relatively small dating record has still somehow grounded itself firmly into a classic example of what one should try to avoid. Pepper is amazing, the perfect woman. Monuments should be built – and will, if he has any say in that matter – to honor her myriad of brilliance. If he could not make it work with her he has to wonder what chance he has with anyone else. And although their parting was with admirably amicable terms, the pain was still there, all too real. He has the fuzzy spot in his memory to prove it; a night filled with cheap whiskey, poorly thought out tech upgrades, and Dummy’s concerned whirring. The pain is still present, even now, the breakup having happened a little less than a month ago. Only now it’s simmering, a steady pressure in the back of his mind that makes itself known occasionally. He is certain that these are not ideal circumstances in which someone should be starting a new relationship with.

When did this even advance into something more than just a casual interest for Steve? He is not an ignorant man by any means. Fluid, not afraid of change, that would be a better description. For him, change is welcomed, strived for, something to be looked forward to. He took to some of the more recent societal ideals quicker than anybody would’ve imagined, and Tony finds all of that endlessly endearing. He is, for all intents and purposes, a modern man. Tony thinks back fondly, to when Steve first met Pepper. She had commented about how difficult a transition it must be, but he seems to be handling it gracefully, and he said in return that having been thrown into the future was worth it to see such a strong woman get the respect she deserves.

“I know,” Steve starts, and Tony has enough time to look up from his mostly intact reservoir of food on his plate to watch a hand come over to rest on his somewhat smaller one, and he can proudly say that he did not even flinch at the gesture. “This probably isn’t the kind of place you were expecting when I asked you out tonight, but I heard you really like their food.”

It is true; this is one of the rare places where the quality of the meal could substantiate the cost, and Steve seems to be enjoying it enough as well. He grins. “Are you sure that’s your only motive?”

“Absolutely,” he answers with his own grin.

Tony narrows his eyes and points his fork at the other, while he goes back to his food. “I’m watching you, Rogers.”

“Oh, and here I thought you were too preoccupied with that elderly couple over there,” he said, nodding his head in their direction, not bothering to look away from his plate.

“Aww, are you jealous, Cap?” He asks, raising his eyebrows and leaning forward in his seat to look at Steve who is swirling pasta around his fork, “don’t worry, we’re definitely the hottest old couple here.” Steve just looks up and quirks an eyebrow, hints of amusement playing on his face.

This is easy, nice even. The important question then, is why he has this horrible feeling of dread curling around his stomach.

Honestly, it is an enjoyable night, and Tony has no trouble admitting that to himself. Steve is good company, at this point the genius cannot think of anyone else he’d rather spend his time with, and he has to take a minute just to let that thought settle, because _whoa_. This guy has really wormed his way into Tony’s life, and he could not be happier at that thought.

They converse effortlessly. They talk about the team, what movies and TV shows Steve should watch next. There is traded laughter over the latest attempt at amateur supervillainy. Some eccentric scientist hyped up on Red Bull and lab fumes who wanted to become the avengers ‘arch-nemesis’ as he called it. Tony brings up his most recent exploits in the workshop. How incompetent his bots are. He tells Steve he thinks someone has been messing with JARVIS’ code, because he swears the AI wasn’t this sassy when he first built him. Steve replies with, _Well, he’s capable of learning right? Maybe you’re just a bad influence_ , which Tony just scoffs at, because of course he is a bad influence. Implying anything but would just be rude, not to mention a gross misinterpretation of his character.

When they are not talking – which is probably a rarer occurrence than it should be because Tony never runs out of things to say – it’s still comfortable. A companionable silence while they both focus on their respective dishes, occasionally peaking up at each other to flash a quick smile at the other.

When they finish, and the check comes, Tony reaches for it, only to acquiesce almost instantly under the Captain America glare Steve directs at him. They leave, and Steve suggests they walk back to the tower, which he cannot help but agree to, even though they both know the smaller man will likely spend the majority of the trip complaining about the cold. He knows Steve would offer him a jacket if he had one, because he’s a _gentleman,_ but somehow the thought to bring one along escaped both of their minds.

A few blocks away from the restaurant, Steve grabs the other’s hand, and entwines their fingers. Tony shivers at the warm sensation that skitters up his spine, and he turns from where he was previously huddled in on himself to see Steve smiling at him, brightly, all adoration. Tony doesn’t know what to make of that, so he just says, “hey,” a little lamely, and then mentally kicks himself.

“Hey,” Steve returns, and his smile grows bigger.

After a beat of silence, Tony pouts. “I’m cold.”

“So I’ve heard,” Steve remarks, with a small laugh.

Tony frowns. “I’m glad you find my misery so amusing.” The bigger man just pulls him closer, so they’re walking shoulder to shoulder, hands still clasped between their waists. “You know, if you had let me call Happy we’d be back by now.”

“Yes, but then we’d also be back by now,” Steve supplies, smile still not faltering.

Tony hums audibly, fervently refusing to think about their joined hands, or how close they are. Instead he busies himself with his own mental commentary. _This is okay, this is fine, tonight has been fun, there is no need to ruin that and freak Steve out with your own insecurities._

He just needs some time, alone, to think some things over. He needs to figure out if he’s in a place yet where he can move on from Pepper, what they used to have together. If he can handle being in another relationship. If he could handle the inevitable downfall that would most definitely come, because that is how it works.

Would they be able to remain as friends?

He looks over at Steve, facing forward, with a smile still on his lips. Though it’s smaller now, just a slight curve. He thinks, _is this something that I want?_

They get back to the tower, JARVIS greeting them with his usual, “welcome back, Master Stark and Captain Rogers.” Steve’s mouth curves downwards a bit at the formal title, and Tony snorts, because he knows the AI does that on purpose.

Passing the communal area on the way to their rooms, they catch Clint sleeping face down on the couch, head nested into the back corner and his left arm flung over the side. The small amount of blanket that still remains on said couch is messily strewn around his legs. When Tony stops to look, Steve pats him on the shoulder and pulls him along.

When they get to Tony’s room, he turns around and is again greeted by that bright smile on the other’s face. He has to take a step back, but the smile that creeps up on his features is real, and he cannot stop it as it grows.

Steve steps into his space and grabs him on his biceps.  Their eyes meet, and for a minute they just stare at each other. Steve’s blue eyes bore into Tony’s darker ones, and he finds himself entranced. He can’t look away, but more importantly, he does not want to.

“Tonight was nice,” Steve says.

“Yeah,” he breathes.

“We should do it again.”

“Yeah,” again, because this man is doing things to him and right now that seems to be the extent of his of vocabulary.

Before he can help it Steve’s face is coming down on his and their lips catch. Tony takes a moment to get used to the sensation before he molds into the man before him, his arms come around the blond’s waist and there is no air between them. Steve's hands find the genius’ neck, and he rubs his fingers over the shorter hairs stationed there. Tony feels the other man gently bite at his bottom lip and his mind goes blank. For a certain span of time he is not aware of, they just mesh together, mouths moving in unison.

Steve pulls back, and it’s too soon, not enough, too much. Tony is stuck, unmoving, as the other man slides his hands down the sides of his arms from the back of the smaller man’s neck before returning to his sides. Steve licks his lips, and Tony can’t stop his jaw from falling slightly from that, his mouth opening, wanting more.

Steve just smirks, the asshole. “Good night, Tony,” he nearly purrs, with his spit slick lips. He turns, starting a casual pace down to the other end of the hall where his own room is. Tony is helpless but to stand there, trying desperately to figure out what has just transpired.

Eventually, he opens his door, and when he gets inside he immediately falls against it, shutting it with a loud click.

“Fuck.”

He slides down the door slowly, until he is in an approximation of a sitting position. And there he stays for quite some time, thinking, because that is what he is good at, what he was born to do.

One thought that keeps coming back to him stubbornly, is that by anyone’s standards, it was a pleasant date.

And that is enough reason, being Tony Stark, for him to catch the quickest jet to Malibu, because another equally stubborn thought is that he just needs to get away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen, people talk, story progresses.

Steve is currently at the kitchen table, head lying on his folded arms. Natasha and Clint are sitting on the opposite side of the table, the former looking fairly concerned and the latter barely restraining his laughter. Bruce is standing at the counter with his back up against the edge, worryingly stoic with his arms crossed over his chest.

It is the evening after his and Tony’s first date, after Steve woke up to the news that the billionaire left the night before, headed for Malibu, JARVIS offering up no further information.

He had been spent the hours following his rushed breakfast merely sulking in solitude, until Natasha had come to his room, asking what he did and pulling him into the kitchen.

Now here he is, with the rest of the team – minus Thor, who is currently handling business in his home world – trying to figure out why Tony pulled the sudden disappearing act. “I don’t know what happened. He seemed fine when I said good night. It went well,” he offers, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly, and then adds with a pitiful expression directed at Natasha, “I thought.”

Steve wonders how he got to this point, discussing his relationship troubles with three other superheroes, all living on the same floor on the now dubbed Avengers Tower. And although it’s not always easy, living here, he would not trade it for anything. These people have done a great deal in helping him adjust to his new place in the world, though they may not realize just how much. What was once only a reluctant acceptance is now fully embraced, proudly. He’s got a new calling in life, and a new group of friends. He still misses the past, but that is just what it is, the past, and he is okay with that.

“And you’re sure you didn’t say anything that might’ve set him off? He wasn’t acting weird during it or anything?”

“Weird?” Clint questions doubtfully. “The guy’s natural state is weird.”

Steve dutifully ignores him. “Well, about halfway through he started acting differently, Stiffer. Like he was thinking about something important, but I didn’t really think much of it.” Tony is always thinking, shutting off that guy’s brain would practically be a death sentence. It is not unusual for him to get lost in thought, when he has a new idea or figures out a solution for one of his current projects in the workshop. “Besides that there wasn’t really anything unusual about him. He might’ve been a little quieter on our way back, but that could have just been from the cold.”

“Maybe he has business there?” Bruce suggests weakly, grabbing his mug of tea from the counter, and Steve shakes his head.

“We were going to go to a museum tomorrow. If he had plans to leave he would’ve told me.”

“I guess you could say that he was scared straight,” Clint says between giggles, though he quickly sobers when he realizes he’s the target of three equally intimidating glares. Steve wonders how long he has been holding that one in.

“Hmm, looks like you will just have to go find out for yourself,” Natasha supplies, nonchalant.

“Can I do that?” Steve frowns in confusion.

“You’re right. I should go check to make sure Captain America isn’t on the No Fly list first.” The redhead rolls her eyes, and Clint giggles again, covering his mouth with a hand to try and stifle the noise this time.

“We’ll call if there’s another impending alien invasion,” Bruce assures with a small smile. Steve takes a moment, then nods his assent.

It is probably the best course of action – and that’s what he is, a man of action – Steve thinks. If something really did freak Tony out enough to fly across the country in the middle of the night, he is not going to be coming back, out of his own volition, anytime soon.

He sighs. Maybe this is too much trouble for one date.

 

 

 

Coming to California, home of your ex-girlfriend-slash-boss, to get away from your relationship troubles, was possibly not the brightest idea.

Especially when said woman knows the overrides codes to your workshop, marching in with what Tony assumes is an expression of pure determination. He would look, if he wasn’t situated under a car, which is one of the few pieces of machinery that has been moved in here since reconstruction was completed on his penthouse just a few days ago. Immensely convenient timing he could easily view as fate, if he believed in such a ridiculous notion.

He hears the _click, click, click,_ over the dull cranking of his wrench, and prepares himself for what he is certain will not be a pleasurable experience.

Silence. He stops his redundant turning of a sufficiently tightened bolt and perches his head up so he can inspect the bottom tenth of the intruder.

“Huh,” he wonders, “I don’t recall ordering any new heels. You know mauve is not really my color.”

“I asked if they had them on red or gold, but it seems no store in a 50 mile radius was willing to carry any of either variety. Weird.”

Tony pouts. “Our divorce has turned you into a cruel woman, Pepp,” he whines, which earns him a small laugh, and a light kick on the shin, one of the few parts not covered by the metal contraption.

“Tony,” She reprimands. He slides out from under, dropping his wrench and giving the woman a blinding smile when his head is freed. He is greeted with the face of determination he had expected.

“Hello, Miss Potts,” he says playfully.

“Mr. Stark,” She returns. He gets up, wiping the non-existent grease off of his hands out of habit, and throws it carelessly off to the side, watches it slide smoothly across the bare floor. He turns to Pepper, whose expression is mostly unreadable now, and doesn’t that say something. Of what though, he is not quite sure. “Are you going to tell my why you’re here, or am I going to have to threaten you with board meetings and charity events?”

Just the thought of that makes him want to crawl back under the car. “Can’t I come to see you without my motives being called into question? That is hurtful, Pepper.”

The face she makes at that that is dubious, at best. “And by come see me, you mean hide in your workshop and hope I’m too busy to come to you?” She questions, with a raised eyebrow.

He gives her his best innocent face in return. A look he wonders if he was even able to pull off during childhood.

He really should be happy she came, though it could not have been easy for her to make that decision. If he was in the same position, he’s sure he wouldn’t have done the same. But that is what makes her Pepper; the brilliant, sophisticated, compassionate ass-kicker he fell in love with.

He clears his throat. “How’d you know I was here, anyway?”

“Natasha,” she answers simply, as if that clears everything up. And it does. He looks down at his feet, and Pepper just says, “Tony,” again, with more force this time, and he looks up and frowns slightly, momentarily, before ordering his features into his best blank face. She drums her fingers against the side of her skirt, waiting.

“It’s nothing, really. Not a big deal,” he explains eventually. “Not something the head of a multinational corporation should be worrying herself with,” he tries with a soft smile, attempting at sincere.

He finds what looks like a bench, a few feet away from the car, and sits. Pepper lets out a sigh, drawn out and sad, and for a second her face contorts into something ugly – and Tony never thought he would use that word to describe anything about Pepper – and a spike of guilt spears itself in his gut, and because he never wants to see that expression again, he blurts: “we went on a date.” After a moment of shock at his own confession, he tries to elaborate, “uh, Steve and I.”

When Pepper speaks up, her voice is barely louder than a whisper. “Oh, Tony,” she says, and moves herself next to him on the bench. She grabs his hand and pulls it into her lap. “Tony, did you ditch Captain America because you were afraid of hurting me? That has got to be the sweetest, stupidest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

He huffs a laugh, a small breath a ghost between his lips. He looks up at her, a thin line of wetness forming at the bottom lids of her eyes.

“I didn’t actually realize it was a date,” he admits softly, ducking his head. “Not at first at least, cause, well, you know me.” He looks up again, flashing the woman a self-deprecating grin, Tony Stark 101.

And she laughs, full body, heaving sounds escaping from her throat in waves, like they have been waiting for their fabled opportunity of escape. He can’t help but to join in, just a little bit.

When Pepper gets control of herself again, inhaling in long breathes, wiping a stray tear from her left cheekbone, she comments, “Oh god, Tony. That is not what I expected. But it is so _you_.” She stresses the last word, smiling fondly, and her eyes drift upwards slightly like she is caught in a pleasant memory. He briefly wonders what she is reminiscing about, but the moment is gone, and in an instant, her face resets.  Tony is now looking at Business Woman Pepper Potts. “And you freaked out?” She asks, not unkindly.

“And I freaked out,” he mimics in a hushed tone. He does not add that it was going fine, until Steve had kissed him, and then his mind had promptly shut down and went into overdrive, simultaneously. Sometimes, even Tony is caught off guard by the capabilities of his brain, and he can’t decide if he should take that as a blessing or a curse.

She hm’s slightly and rubs her thumb in a line over the back of his hand still located in her lap. After a small period of silence, she straightens her shoulders, seeming to have come to a decision. “Well,” she drawls. “You’ll do better on the second date.” She pats his hand a couple times before moving it back to its original position on the man’s own leg.

He gives her a look which he hopes conveys that he has now lost the thread on this conversation. He wonders briefly if maybe he has caused her to go insane, and with his track record that possibility is more likely than he should be comfortable with. She just smiles back, reassuring, never taking her eyes off of him. Most likely not, he decides. If there is anyone in this room currently who is crazy he has good odds on himself.

She sits up briskly, brushes out the wrinkles in her skirt, and gives Tony one last smile before walking away.

“Everyone, including you, deserves something good in their life,” she throws over her shoulder right before she takes her final step out of the workshop, and he might have missed it if the acoustics in the bare room weren’t so accommodating.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be your something,” he whispers wistfully into the air.

 

 

 

Steve takes a moment to breathe in the sight before him, standing outside the billionaire’s house in Malibu, on a cliff, no less. An architectural beauty, he is sure, but he cannot help thinking it is a tad too much, even for Tony. He purses his lips at the prospect of living here.

“Welcome, Mister Rogers,” JARVIS greets with his familiar intonation once he gets close enough to the door, and he smiles.

“Hey JARVIS,” he replies airily, while the door opens in front of him, and he takes a few steps inside.

He gets to what he will assume is supposed to be the kitchen, and looks up. “Where is Tony?” he inquires to the AI, but another voice answers him, polite but firm.

“Downstairs.” And he turns to find Pepper walking up the related staircase. “In his workshop,” she clarifies, and he nods, body language tense. “Hello, Steve,” she regards warmly.

“Hi Mi—Pepper,” he corrects automatically, smiling, which probably comes out looking as uncomfortable as he feels. Before she gets a chance to comment on it though, he asks helplessly, “How is he?”

She comes towards him, circles around the table until she’s standing on his opposite side, and he follows her. She gives him a knowing look. “He’s fine, Steve,” she assures genuinely.

It is not that he doesn’t like Pepper. She is a lovely woman, and they get along wondrously, having bonded over the woes of being around Tony Stark effortlessly. The two of them have gone to art shows and the like together on a few occasions. He and Tony had become unshakably close in the months leading up to their meeting, after all, and it would be unacceptable, to think badly of your best guy’s lady.

But now that has run its course, and Steve has been harboring his own feelings for the other man, for who knows how long. Now Steve has come all the way here hoping to convince Tony to forgive him for what he had gotten wrong the other night, just recently summoning up enough courage to act on his growing attraction.

He finds himself relaxing slowly under her glowing smile, and can’t help but notice the slight buildup of tears in her eyes now that they are closer. She doesn’t look sad exactly, which he consoles himself with, something closer to relief shining in her pale eyes.

“Not planning on staying long?” She observes, gesturing to him, only in jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. He had brought nothing else with him, hoping to be back in New York, with Tony, in a day or so.

“Hopefully,” he replies, shrugging.

The two of them trade easy smiles, until Pepper cuts through the silence. “I’m hungry,” she says simply. “Are you hungry?”

“I guess,” is his only reply, though it’s more of a question in itself.

“Come on,” she ushers, walking back around the table and grabbing him by the elbow. “I know a place that you will love.” He lets himself be pulled, stealing a quick glance back towards the stairs, entirely baffled by how the past couple of days have gone.


	3. Chapter 3

“You know, it’s not your fault. If that’s what you think,” Pepper tells him, giving him a scrutinizing eyebrow, after they’ve already finished their meals, now just left with drinks. Pepper with her mug of coffee and Steve a glass of orange juice in front of him.

The comment comes as a surprise to Steve. During the entire time sitting in the quaint diner, at a worn down booth, the obvious topic had not come up yet. They had spent the majority of the time catching up, since Pepper left the tower and moved back here. Pepper asking about the team, how things are going back in New York, what Steve has been drawing lately, a question that he just coughed at and went to take a drink. The only truthful answer he could give to that question was _Tony,_ and he is not sure how well that would have gone over with her. Still though, she just gave him a knowing smile and chugged along, wanting to know how living in such close proximity with Natasha was working for him. Pepper’s visibly disappointed when Steve recounts how many times the other woman has sauntered out of her bedroom in the morning in only an oversized shirt and he successfully tamps down his blush. Spending so much time with Tony has given him a sizable amount of practice in that regard.

When Steve gives no response, she continues. “Tony is,” she starts, and considers, tapping her index finger against the porcelain of her cup, then seems to settle on, “complex.”

“His mind moves at incredible speeds,” the woman continues. “He’s constantly overthinking things, wondering what he can change, influence, improve. Analyzing every possibly outcome. ” She looks into his eyes, likes she’s trying to pass along her knowledge to him through their connected gaze. “Sometimes, you have to take it upon yourself to show him the right one.”

Steve considers it, but before he has a chance to reply – this woman playing a subtle game of Chess with him, always three steps ahead – Pepper drains the remains of her coffee and stands. “Now, I have a company to run,” she says curtly, but gives him an apologetic look.

He directs an earnest smile at her in return. “Bye, Pepper.” And she leaves to pay for the bill.

Steve sits there for a while, letting that entire one-sided conversation roll around in his brain for a bit, then it sinks, settling. Pepper had just given him a plethora of information, in such a short time span, but it had just left him with a number of new questions.

It makes sense, because he’s seen how fast the genius’ mind can move. He’s seen him jump from one topic to another, filled with contagious excitement, at a pace Steve cannot keep up with. He has seen Tony bounce off ideas with JARVIS or Bruce, sometimes switching gears quicker than he can finish his sentences. They do not call him The Futurist for nothing. The man has basically created his own world of technology and innovation; pioneered some astounding projects, even in today’s standards.

But if he can see all outcomes, can guess with startling accuracy which is the right one, what does he see for the two of them?

A ball of indignant angers flares up in him at that. Sure, the man may be able to predict effectively when it comes to machinery and science. Math is calculated, there are few variables. Does Tony really think he can account for the intricacies another human provides? Does he think of this as simply a problem needed to be solved, headed off at the course, to provide the ending that ensures a minimal amount of collateral knockback?

Steve deflates, hurt, because why couldn’t Tony just _come to him_ with his concerns. He turns his orange juice, watching the waves the movement makes on the clear glass.

He is certain Tony is interested in him as more than just a friend. The other night went well, at least when the man was apparently not freaking out about things that are, for the most part, out of his control. Tony spends more time with him, willingly, than any other single person; there is no way that’s on accident.

Maybe Steve tried to push him into a relationship before he was ready. Steve speculates if he has ever even gone out with another of the same gender before. He knows with the guy’s elaborate history, it’s highly likely he has had some experience with men, though how far those experiences went is up in the air. As far as Steve can see, Pepper seems to have been his first attempt at a real, lasting committed relationship, at least when he was old enough to fully appreciate the consequences of such an undertaking.

Steve decides that really, all this boils down to is a lack of communication. Steve isn’t going to let that happen again, determination coursing through every cell in his body.

And he is sure as hell is not going to let Tony ruin this before it has even had a chance to start.

 

 

 

 _Coffee,_ Tony thinks intelligently, finally having emerged from his workshop for the first time since his arrival, having spent the last couple hours giving JARVIS a list of all of the necessary equipment to order so he can turn the sad space it is currently into a functioning working environment for him.

It’s dark, he notices dully on his way towards the kitchen. He had spent the better part of his day disassembling and reassembling the vehicle located down there – of course making a few spare improvements that he was able to with his limited pool of resources – just to give him something to busy his hands with. He needed something to temporarily take his mind off of his earlier talk with Pepper, which was emotionally exhausting. But, it could have been worse, he supposes, so maybe he should be grateful.

He arrives at the kitchen, briefly assuring that there is actually a coffee machine up here, unlike in his workshop, he grumbles to himself lowly, which will be fixed immediately. He swiftly rifles through the cupboards – paying no mind to the super soldier situated behind him, sitting at the table, JARVIS having already alerted Tony to his presence some time ago – looking for beans he can turn into his precious liquid fuel.

He comes out empty handed, unfortunately, and lets out a loose sigh. There is a throat clearing noise behind him, and he turns around, face to face with a disarmingly goofy grin, which seems to belong to a large man with immaculately parted blond hair. Said man brings up one of his hands, and presents him with a coffee cup.

Tony’s mouth quirks upwards and he reaches for it hastily, drinking it down as soon as it is in his hands. It’s cold, but that barely registers in his brain next to his first cup of coffee of the day. And that is probably a new record for the genius, he doesn’t remember the last time he went more than a few hours without the drink before.

“Uh, sorry,” Steve offers, “I didn’t think you would appreciate me coming down to your workshop unannounced.”

“As long as you have coffee, you can follow me anywhere,” he responds off hand, between gulps of coffee. Then it’s empty, and he takes in his surroundings. “Wait, so you’ve just been sitting there this entire time? What have you been doing?”

He shrugs, “talking to JARVIS.”

An indulgent sensation runs through him at how much Steve has come to like JARVIS. Tony believed he would be thrown off by him at first, going so far as to disable the vocal capabilities in the soldier’s room. But one day Steve came down to Tony, looking put out, asking if he had made the other man angry, because he did not understand why the AI was everywhere in the tower besides his own quarters.

“You’ve really gotta stop talking to disembodied voices, Steve,” he advises with a frown. “It’s not healthy.”

“Indeed, Sir. I believe you should seek immediate psychiatric intervention for your condition,” inputs the artificial intelligence. Tony snorts.

“You know something is wrong when even the disembodied voice believes you are crazy,” he says while placing the now empty container on the counter.

Steve just continues smiling, and slowly walks over to where he was previously at the table. He sits, and then points to the opposite side of the table where Tony should do the same. Tony does not know where these chairs even came from. He is almost certain they were not here yesterday.

Tony gives the other man a look. “Do we have to?” he whines. He transiently wonders if he could get to the suitcase armor he left downstairs before Steve could stop him, but wisely decides against it. “I don’t think I have enough coffee in my system for this.”

“Or food,” Steve inputs. “Or sleep.” And Tony is about to suggest he go do one of those things when Steve continues, “But yes, we do,” gesturing again to the chair. “Please,” he adds, after a sharp pause, and the smaller man relents.

Once he is seated, and Steve’s eyes settle on him, filled with an unhindered fierceness Tony’s never quite seen before, his jaw jutting out resolutely, Steve begins. “Look, Tony, I am sorry if I forced you into something you were uncomfortable with. I thought we were on the same page. I realize I am partially to blame here, but,” he trails off, looking away from the other man, his eyebrows furrowing inwards. Tony shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Did you really have to get away from me that badly? Flying to the opposite coast, was that necessary?” He asks, dejectedly. Tony squirms.

“I wasn’t,” he says immediately, mostly because he does not think he would be able to handle silence right now, having an overwhelming urge to fill the void. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, and at Steve’s puzzled look, he attempts to explain, “uh, on the same page. I mean.” That didn’t seem to help Steve’s confusion at all though. He scratches the side of his neck in thought.

“That night, at dinner,” he tries again, “I thought it was just that, uh, dinner,” he elaborates with a wave of his hand. “You know, platonically. Like all the other dinners we have had.”

“Oh,” is Steve’s only reply – and come on, that is all he gets? After all that, he needs more to work with here – Steve’s mouth keeps moving though, like he is working over something in his mind. Soon enough, Tony gets what he wants. “So, when I said we should go out—“

“I thought you meant as friends, yeah,” Tony finishes for him. Steve’s shoulders sag for a moment, and then his eyes go wide, and he half covers his mouth with his hand.

“Wait,” he breathes. “So in the tower, when I kissed you?” he asks wearily.

“No, no,” Tony is quick to assure, placing his hand delicately on the one of Steve’s still on the table, and when he realizes what he has done, removes it again. “I realized before that. Way before that, when we were still eating,” he illustrates. Steve runs his hand over the back of his other where Tony’s touch had been just a moment ago.

“You mean, when I was eating?” he corrects with a smile, but it’s forced, too much teeth, and Tony can still make out some of the lingering sadness in his eyes. Tony misses his smiles, the signature Steve smiles, all warmth and sincerity, directed exclusively at him.

“Why didn’t you just tell me this?” he implores, and Tony looks away, down at his ratty sleeveless t-shirt and beat up jeans. “Tony, are you really so sure this isn’t going to work,” he gestures between them, “already, without so much as giving it a chance?”

“What evidence is there to suggest any other conclusion is inevitable?” he demands, a little coldly.

“So what, are you just going to avoid relationships for the rest of your life, because you are afraid of the prospect of it ending badly? That doesn’t sound like you, Tony. You can’t stop unfortunate things from happening in life because they are an inconvenience to you. Sometimes, what you want takes a little work,” and the man is in full Captain America voice now. He probably recited this speech in his head earlier, like he was preparing for a particularly brutal press conference. Tony notes, however, that he is tactfully avoiding using the word ‘alone,’ for which he is intimately grateful. “Are you saying what we could possibly have together isn’t worth it?”

He really should have prioritized sleep over coffee, he now realizes solemnly, rubbing his temples. Any other time Steve would let him sleep, be dragging the other man to his bed, but he’s flown to the opposite side of the country, preparing for this. He has been sitting at this very table for what Tony assumes has been several hours now, and he deserves this.

“I’m saying, what we have _now,_ is enough for me,” Tony pleads, drained.

“I don’t believe you,” Steve says softly, and for some reason that hits a spark, just right, and now there’s a fire burning, in his stomach, in his eyes. He snaps his head at the other man, his face all sharp lines, ready to throw out a cutting remark that he will no doubt regret as soon as it leaves his lips. But before he can get it out, he catches sight of Steve in the darkened room. His eyes are half-lidded, staring off to the side, unfocused; his mouth looks ready to slip right off of his face, as if it doesn’t belong. The fight leaves Tony’s body, like shedding a second skin, a ghost of what could have been, and he is left with only the same bone-weary ache as before.

They both sit there, in silence. Neither willing to tread the thin wire they seem to have created for themselves.

After what was decidedly more than just a few minutes, Steve finds the courage to look at the other again, and Tony turns to meet him.

“I’m not saying it wouldn’t be hard, because relationships are hard,” Steve explains, smiling slightly, this time coming out less forced than before. “But it would be worth it.”

Tony has been sitting for too long, way too long now, and his utter _need_ for movement wins out. He stands, the blond following his movements to the window, where there appears to be a nice view of water, and more water. Tony taps the glass, in thought. He brushes his hand through his hair, tangled with grease. “Maybe I’m just not cut out to be in a relationship. I mean, look at where I’ve gotten us already.”

He hears Steve get up, take a few steps towards the other, and he can practically feel Steve’s eyes at the back of his head.

“That is one possibility. But Tony, there are so many other ones, better ones, that you haven’t even considered yet.”

Something in his voice makes Tony freeze, it’s not quite a plea, but there’s a desperate note in there. Tony has never heard him sound like that before, and it does something to him, the knot in his gut loosening a little. Tony turns slowly, blows some air out of his mouth, not quite a sigh. He relents. “It’s worth a shot.”

Steve remains still, and for a moment Tony thinks that maybe he said the wrong thing, yet again, and then he is smiling, that radiant _Steve_ smile. And it was worth it, to see that, Tony thinks. He smiles back, lopsided, and Steve takes the last few steps into his space. Tony isn’t caught completely off guard by it this time, so when Steve mashes their mouths together he is ready for it. He grabs the other’s biceps, pushes back, and tries to shape the kiss into something a little less messy. Steve still remains in control, though, which Tony blames partly on his sleep deprived state. This one is slower, less rushed than their first meeting, but it is just as enjoyable.

Too soon, he has to pull away, his head becoming hazy with the oxygen deficit, another thing he will fault for his lack of sleep.

He steps back, enough to get a good look at Steve’s face. His eyes, mostly closed, are sparkling with relief, and he’s wearing a dopey grin, that makes Tony’s head spin. He laughs, giddy, and Steve comes in for another kiss. It’s shorter this time, a brush of lips, the bigger man pulling back almost instantly, and after a moment he breathes into the genius’ mouth: “you should sleep.”

“What? No, I’m good. Totally fine,” He waves him off, but then he yawns, unrestrained, and Steve snickers. Tony shifts his face into what he hopes is an accurate representation of bedroom eyes. “You know, a yawn is the body’s way of telling you it needs more air,” he says with a leer, “which I bet the serum provides you with a surplus of. Care to share?”

He tries to move into Steve’s space, but the guy puts a palm against his chest, which effectively holds him back. “See you back at the tower, Tony,” he remarks with a small laugh. “And I want a real first date, by the way, one with two full participants.”

“That’s asking a little much, Cap, don’t you think?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. And that is Tony for you, still able to offer up some top tier snark even when his brain is trying to shut down, moving faster to fulfill its needs than Tony can by himself.

“We’ll make it work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this so far~


	4. Chapter 4

They haven’t spoken since the last night in Malibu. Steve had woken up a few hours later after spending the night on the couch, and had found Tony still sleep. He figured it would be a good idea to leave him like that for now, seeing as he probably needed as much sleep as he could get. Steve had left for New York then, leaving a note with JARVIS.

Tony decided to stay for a few more days, according to Pepper he wanted to help finish renovations on the new house as long as he was already there. Steve didn’t really know what to think of that, but as far as he could tell it was harmless enough. If the man wanted space, he could give him space. The two of them still have things to talk about, but Steve doesn’t want to push his luck. They could both use a breather after that talk. He feels a small pang of guilt at making the guy have such a heavy discussion when he was exhausted, but Steve wanted the talk to be as soon as possible, so Tony did not have any more time to think himself into a bigger hole. One that Steve is not sure he would have been able to dig the genius out of. Right now he is just going to be glad that he was able to get Tony to agree, even if it was only half-hearted. He can work on that.

Steve has his own business to attend to. Being the leader apparently also meant people perceived him as the face of the team as well, ‘The First Avenger’ as Fury had put it when he had brought it up with the SHIELD Director. This meant he had to deal with the press conferences that were always popping up for whatever reason. And the team still being in its infancy, it seemed they could come up with a limitless pool of reasons. Steve knew it was just so they could try to pry more information out of him, fluster him up and make him say something unwise to add to the anti-avengers propaganda flying around. They were never able to though, and Steve took each successful conference as a small victory, humoring them with their attempts to catch him off guard.

Conveniently, just as he had returned to the city, a threat had appeared. The trees in Central Park had somehow come alive and were snatching up the visitors who got too close to their branches. It took them a full day to find who was responsible, and Fury had given them his usual spiel about how junior agents could have handled the situation with a higher level of proficiency.

“I don’t know why he is so grumpy, honestly. You would think he’d be ecstatic over the prospect of Tony being gone. We didn’t even have to deal with his and Steve’s constant teenage school girl flirting during the meeting,” Clint commented on their way back to the tower. Steve just smiles, and the rest of the team spend the remaining duration of the ride shooting him curious glances.

Then, of course, there were the interviews. A steady stream of invitations for them had started pouring in ever since the invasion. The team, thinking they would help the public’s opinion of The Avengers, had somehow talked him into believing they would be a good idea. So he made a point of accepting a couple of them every now and then.

Steve is coming back from one of the interviews, stepping into the private elevator from the lobby, when he hears JARVIS’ crisp tone. “Sir, Master Stark requests you join him in his private dining area.”

He wonders when Tony had gotten back, pulls out his phone to see if he has any unread messages that the other left him, finds nothing, and then asks JARVIS.

“Just a few hours ago,” is his reply.

Steve stands in the middle of the small space, wondering which button to press, since he has never been to Tony’s private dining area before. He did not even know that he had one, actually. _What has he been using it for?,_ he asks himself, and then admonishes that train of thought, because it is entirely none of his business.

JARVIS saves him though, the light for Tony’s own floor flashing on, and the elevator doors start closing.

Steve wishes he had more time to prepare as he stares at the rising level numbers. This seems all a bit too formal, and he has to swallow through the dryness that has formed in his throat.

When he steps out of the elevator, he is assaulted by a robust aroma, and although it is pleasant, it only adds to his bemusement.

He hears muffled noises he immediately recognizes as Tony, and navigates towards the sounds. When he gets to the source, he is greeted by an ass. Well, the ass attached to a man hunched over a table, who appears to be glaring daggers at a line of cutlery arranged neatly on the table. “After all of the etiquette lessons I was forced through as a kid, I still can never remember how these are supposed to go,” he grumbles.

Steve takes a moment to appreciate the view. The man in front of him is in a dark grey pinstriped suit. And Steve appreciates the fact that his earlier interview was on a well-respected news program, so he saw it fitting to also wear a suit today, luckily still having the one Tony had gotten him for a charity event the Avengers were invited to a couple months back. When Steve has had his fill, appreciating the fit of Tony’s pants, he clears his throat.

“Oh!” Tony jumps, and turns his head. “Hi,” he says through a smile, which quickly turns into a grin as he takes in the man before him. “Wow,” he turns fully, “you look, wow.” He frowns then, looking up at the ceiling. Steve brings up a hand to cover a laugh, because Tony always makes fun of him when he does that.

“JARVIS, I told you to tell me when Steve was on his way up.”

“My apologies Sir, I did not deem it appropriate to interrupt you during such critical activities,” he replies dryly.

Steve ignores Tony and JARVIS’ banter, and looks around the smaller man’s shoulders, at a scene straight out of a romantic comedy. A dressed up little table in the center of the room, with a crisp white table cloth draped across, two plates and matching sets of silverware on opposing sides. There are a few short pale red candles, surrounding a clear vase containing a small bundle of gold lilies.

But what really grabs the soldier’s attention is the slightly wider, but lower set, table set up on the opposite side of the other, with a large collection of plates spanning its entirety filled with various dishes.

“Did you cook?” He directs at Tony, who looks down at him, to the table, then back wearing a sheepish smile. Before he has a chance to reply though, the AI cuts in.

“As I am not currently detecting the presence of fire anywhere in the building, I believe that not to be the case.”

“Hey,” Tony protests, pointing viciously at the ceiling, “whose directions was I using when that happened?”

“Rachael Ray’s, Sir.”

“Don’t make me mute you,” Tony warns with a scowl.

“I would not dream of it, Master Stark,” JARVIS supplies.

Tony harrumphs and takes a few steps towards Steve. “Uh, no. I picked it up on my way back here. You said you wanted a second date?” He explains, mouth curling upwards again.

“Second first date,” Steve corrects, smiling back at the man.

Tony waves him off, and says, “Semantics,” while he is turning towards the table. He takes a few steps and looks back at Steve. “Well, come on. Let’s not waste all the hard work the fine people at Adam’s Takeout Cuisine put into this wonderful spread. Exquisite place, it is.”

Steve snickers, and takes a few steps to join Tony.

“Uh, the flowers were Pepper’s idea,” he adds when they sit. Then after a minute of silence with both of them staring at the vase obstructing their view, Tony gripes, “maybe I should rethink appointing her the CEO of my multibillion dollar company.” He grabs the vase, pulls out the flowers, tosses them over his shoulders carelessly and sets down the vase to the side next to the food covered table. Steve fights to keep down a laugh, just smiling fondly at the brunet.

“Tony,” he can’t help but chastise lightly. They were nice flowers, and well, _he got him flowers._ Tony just grins back at him, piling food onto both of their plates.

Well, this is a marvel. Steve had thought Tony would still be a bit reluctant about the whole relationship thing. Figuring more discussion on the subject would be necessary, possibly even entertaining the idea of going back to California once things settled down. And Steve would be happy to convince the other man further that they are worth it, no matter what troubles they will face down the road. Steve is fully aware it is not going to be effortless, as much as he would enjoy that. Tony has serious self-doubt issues, and Steve tends to be somewhat awkward in private settings, both having limited experience with committed relationships. But he concretely believes, without the slightest glimmer of hesitancy, that they can make this work.

They _will_ make it work.

“Sorry for not calling or anything,” the smaller man starts after making a few cuts into his chicken breast. “There was more to do at the penthouse than I thought there’d be, the workshop alone took two days to finish. And then an emergency popped up at the Texas factory and Pepper had to fly out to deal with it. She asked me to step in for her in a board meeting because she already had to reschedule it twice and the members were getting grumpy, although I don’t see how that’s any different than usual.”

“Well I’m sure seeing you brightened them right up,” Steve remarks, and when the other man sticks his tongue out at him, he cocks an eyebrow. “Classy.”

“Well, you know me.” He winks. “Also sorry I wasn’t here for the,” a pause while his brows furrow in thought, “uh, mutant tree kidnappers?” He questions. “Wait, no, I take that back. Not remorseful at missing that in the slightest.”

“We could’ve used you, though,” he offers, trying to find a subtler way to express the fact that he had missed the genius during his absence, thinking he would not take too well to such a blunt emotional statement. “It took us way too long to find the guy. If we had your magic tracers you installed into the suit after our last battle with Loki, it would’ve been a much simpler process.”

“What can I say? My talents are in high demand.”

Steve just shakes his head while chewing a bite of potato.

“Fury missed you, by the way,” he says after a minute.

“Oh, and did he say this?” Tony asks with a raised eyebrow, disbelieving.

“No, but you could see it in his eye.”

Tony’s eyes go wide; his face saying _did that just happen?_ Steve smirks at the idea of being able to fluster him so effectively, and then the engineer laughs heartily. “Did Captain America just make a joke about Fury’s eye patch? I am so proud,” he teases, putting a hand on his heart.

The dinner goes smoothly. It’s similar in a lot of ways to their last one, Steve muses. This time, though, neither of them can stop smiling. So much so that Steve’s jaw would probably be mildly sore by now, but the serum probably takes care of even that. Tony’s movements are noticeably less rigid, gesturing wildly around the room in conjunction with his sentiments. When they are leisurely making their way through desert – apple pie, of course, because Tony Stark is an adorable idiot – Tony brings his hand to rest on Steve’s own again, but this time he doesn’t pull back, and the blond just beams back at the other, helpless against the barrage of welcomed sensations dancing around in his stomach.

When they are done, and Steve is cleaning up the dishes, Tony grabs his wrist. “I thought maybe we could go see a movie?” He asks hesitantly. Steve looks at the man’s suit, and the down at his own.

“I think we might be a little overdressed for the movies?” He examines. He feels a fleeting mournfulness at the thought of Tony changing, because the man could evoke heart attacks and fainting spells just by walking around in the thing, but Steve feels downright uncomfortable in his getup, and he is sure it shows.

“Pft, I have been to a McDonalds in a suit before,” Tony scoffs, “but you can change before we go if you want,” he adds, patting the bigger man on the side with an easy smile, practically reading his mind.

 

 

 

When Steve comes back out, he is wearing jeans, a light jacket, and a black t-shirt under it with an artistic rendition of the Iron Man faceplate and the text ‘Hero’ laid out in a heavy red font underneath it. Tony doesn’t know what to think of this, so he just stares at the other man. He hasn’t the faintest idea where the man is getting all of these new clothes from.

Steve smirks, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

“What?” he asks, playing at innocence.

“Now I think you’re a little underdressed,” the genius sputters, but Steve just grabs his hand and pulls him towards the elevator. Tony’s not sure if he should be worried about the fluttery feeling his heart is making right now.

When they get to the theater, there is a brief argument about what movie they should see. What they decide on ends up being an over-produced action sequel. Neither having seen any of the earlier in the series, but guessing they wouldn’t need to in order to understand the mindless plot – Tony’s words, of course.

Once it ends, and they make their way outside, Tony gets into a monologue of everything that was wrong with the movie. Steve graciously listens to all of it, even inputting a few of his own complaints about the level of realism the work provided.

They begin walking home, and once Tony’s rant loses steam, they end up walking side by side, throwing each other affectionate looks. Tony steps closer into the other’s space, leaning into his bulkier frame, and joins their hands.

Tony had, well, more than his fair share of doubts about this. There are so many things that could go wrong, and it is more than likely he would be a catalyst in such events. He’s still worried that it could destroy what they have built together, and maybe even more than that, but tonight has assuaged his worries slightly. And now that they are doing this, _officially_ , Tony is going to try his absolute hardest to make sure he and Steve beat the odds.

He may have even started believing they might be able to pull it off. A few years ago he was a joke, ignorant and uncaring about anyone around him, even his best friends who stayed by his side, possibly against their better judgment. Then, after freeing himself from a world-renowned terrorist organization in the middle of the desert, he’s now become a part of a group of superheroes, doing good and saving lives. A group that is now living in his tower, eating meals together, sprawling out in front of the TV and having movie marathons with. The people he has started to think of as family.

So, really, who is Tony to say what is and is not possible?

They get back to the tower, and Steve insists they return to his floor to restart cleanup in the dining area.

When the soldier is finishing, at the counter drying his hands with a towel, Tony comes up behind him, putting his hands on the man’s waist. He turns the blond man around, waiting a moment to let him take in the lecherous grin spreading out on the billionaire’s face, and he leans in, sparing centimeters.

“Tonight was nice,” he says, and doesn't wait for a reply before he kisses the other man. Steve lets out a shocked gasp and brings his hands up to rest at the other’s neck. Tony pushes him back against the counter fully, pressing their bodies together. He rubs between the blond’s shoulder blades with one hand, and uses the other to firmly grope his ass. That gets him a slight moan, and he uses the chance to lick his way into Steve’s mouth. The other man is barely managing to keep up, and the genius pushes his advantage, rucking up his shirt slightly and brushing his fingers along the skin on top of his waistband. He bites the bigger man’s bottom lip slightly as he pulls away, and then traces his index finger over it, drawing a line where his teeth just were, as he takes in the sight before him. The man is sporting a powerful blush, creeping down his neck and almost disappearing below his shirt. He’s wearing an utterly shell-shocked expression, and Tony can feel his running heartbeat where they are still joined, separated by a few layers of clothing.

“Good night, Steve,” he purrs, and begins to pull away with a smirk that could only be described as amorous. He uses the same finger to trail down the middle of the other’s chest, and then turns around and walks away, leaving the super soldier in a state of perplexed longing.

As he is making his way back to his room, with an overwhelmingly blissful feeling crowding his body, running from head to toe, he thinks: _Yeah, I can do this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Figures I would say I'm not sure if I'm going to finish it only to get the majority of the story done in a few days, then when I decide to amend that to I _will_ finish it, it takes me forever to finish the last part.
> 
> Oh well, I hope you enjoyed it. And thanks for reading!


End file.
